


The Found Series

by kaalee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-18
Updated: 2007-08-17
Packaged: 2018-10-26 15:00:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10789053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaalee/pseuds/kaalee
Summary: [Seamus/Dean]  Six double-drabbles that tell a story of Seamus & Dean finding each other again after many years apart... will they reconcile?





	1. Raspberry

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: ~written for inspiredlife <3  


* * *

**Raspberry**   
**S/D, 200 words, G**

~.:.~.:.~.:.~.:.~

"What are you doing?"  
  
Dean looked up into a curious face and smiled, "Drawing."

She squinted critically, "But it's only... _people_. Why don't you have the grass or trees or that castle I just built?"

"Well," Dean considered briefly. "I like people."

"Strangers?"

"I guess."

"Don't you have friends you can draw?"

Dean shifted awkwardly, "Well, yeah, but..."  
  
"I like rainbows," said the girl, patting his hand. "Rainbows and really big swords."

_Five... maybe six_ , Dean thought. _And absolutely adorable._ The deep, raspberry-stung red of her lips stood out from her pale face and reminded him of someone that... someone that he'd tried to forget. "Both of those are nice, too." Dean bit back a laugh. "But they don't really _go_ together."

The little girl drew herself up, "That doesn't matter as long as _you_ like them."

Dean nodded uncertainly. Someone had said almost the exact same thing to him nearly five years ago and suddenly a deep, hollow _ache_ filled him.

"Oh! Look! Here comes my-"

_...father,_ Dean finished silently, trying to breathe but for his plummeting heart, as a familiar body walked over, silhouetted in golden-red by the setting sun.

_Bugger._ He wasn't ready for this.

Not now.

~.:.~.:.~.:.~.:.~

 

~thank you so much for reading! ♥


	2. Drowning

**Drowning**   
**S/D, 200 words, PG**

~.:.~.:.~.:.~.:.~

Having polite tea twice a week in Seamus' tiny office felt almost surreal when Dean remembered their sweaty, muffled fumblings on his old sofa.

They discussed various old friends, restaurants, Quidditch... but never anything _real_. Dean avoided that the way a wolf avoids fire; he settled into the cushioned comfort of stale, one-dimensional small talk. Even the brightness of the fruit bowl sitting fragrant on the windowsill couldn't free the feelings stifled within him.

Seamus would bite into a strawberry and say, "Dean," in the most un- _fucking_ -Seamus-like voice Dean had ever heard: controlled and serious. Then he'd wait, unaware that the juice had stained his lips like shiny, wet desire. It was...

Dean couldn't handle it. He'd wince, his stomach burning, and jump out of his chair to pace the room.

Seamus would glower at him and, as though moving through heavy molasses, change the subject and pour Dean another cup of tea.

Once, he did open his mouth and words flooded the room, _Is she really your daughter? God, I've missed you. Why didn't- I've always lo-_ , drowning him. When he finally looked up, breathless with declarations, Seamus still looked expectant.

Dean realized that he hadn't said a word.

~.:.~.:.~.:.~.:.~

 

thank you for reading! ♥


	3. Tear

**Tear**   
**S/D, 200 words, PG**

~.:.~.:.~.:.~.:.~  


 

Memories began to mock him in dreams. Dreams that were hauntingly real, accurate, and so bloody perfectly _right._ Dean awoke with the dreadful feeling that things were going to tear him open... that he'd intentionally ruin everything.   
  
Again.   
  
Oddly, it happened during the late afternoon muddled sunlight that shone into his kitchen when he went, alone, to make tea. It hit him suddenly. He'd cultivated his time, organized it to be full, predictable, and safe. But when the sun shone in, painting golden lines across the counter, the stabbing pain of a thousand emotions pierced him at once. The question that had been bubbling within since he'd seen Seamus at the park finally burst and he lost the carefully structured reality he'd created.  
  
The single dried tear on his cheek stung as he rapped at the door of Seamus's office, rapped until his heart was exposed and bleeding and staining his shoes.  
  
When Seamus opened the door, words failed him again and Dean dropped to the floor, burying his face in his hands before looking up into Seamus's eyes and whispering, " _Please._ "  
  
Seamus sank down beside him and took his hand: soft, warm, familiar. "Dean. Dean, she's not my daughter."  
  
~.:.~.:.~.:.~.:.~  
  
  
thank you for reading! ♥


	4. Living

**Living**   
**S/D, 200 words, PG-13**

**A/N:** The shift to present tense in this part is deliberate. :)

~.:.~.:.~.:.~.:.~  


 

The world melts into ragged contours of lust.  
  
Dean thinks _yes yesyesYES_ , and things are so perfect they almost smolder. The breathless sound Seamus makes when their lips move stickily apart -- like tape pulled from a wall -- starts a slow burn in his chest. Dean pulls Seamus against him, _hard_ , until Seamus shudders and rocks their hips together. Desire-stained lips devour his neck and Dean's vision blurs, blackens... fucking _disappears_.   
  
There's a softness to Seamus's belly now that wasn't there before, and Dean knows that his own belt size has increased during the years of misplaced longing.  
  
For some reason, though, the only thing that seems to matter is that Seamus still has the raised scar (from exploding shrapnel) under his eye. It tastes exactly as Dean remembers, but _sweeter_ , somehow. Seamus trails his finger down the inside of Dean's naked thigh with the same light, teasing brushes that always made him tremble.  
  
Seamus whispers words under his ear: _Dean, Dean_ and _only you_. Dean rolls back, pulling Seamus on top of him with such fervor that he almost loses his balance. Laughing, Dean realizes that he hasn't really been _living_ for years.  
  
But now? Oh, he _is._  
  
~.:.~.:.~.:.~.:.~  
  
  
thank you for reading! ♥


	5. Breathe

**Breathe**   
**S/D, 200 words, PG**

 

~.:.~.:.~.:.~.:.~

 

Her hand clutches the blanket as she falls asleep. Dean watches, his chest constricting with an inexplicable desire to protect her from his mistakes.  
  
A floorboard creaks and Dean sees Seamus watching them, his expression unreadable. "So? Hope is...?"  
  
"Colleen's daughter."  
  
"Your sister. But, how-"  
  
"She was killed after you left, weeks after Hope was born. There wasn't anyone else. She knows I'm her uncle, but calls me da anyway. I think it's just... easier."  
  
"You mean-" Dean feels the entire core of his body empty, "Then, you never..."  
  
"I couldn't. I'd had my chance and fucked it up, so..." Seamus looks down at a worn patch in the floor, "I figured it was time to focus on someone else's life."  
  
"I feel like such a prat."  
  
"Why, exactly? Because you needed to figure things out? Or because you did and you're... here now," he looks at Dean intently, " _Are_ you here now?"  
  
Blistering panic swallows him and Dean can't _breathe_. "Hope doesn't need another father... doesn't need _me_."  
  
Seamus walks slowly over and reaches out, entwining their fingers like strong ivy, "Maybe... maybe _her_ father needs you."  
  
The world opens and Dean breathes again... for the very first time.  


~.:.~.:.~.:.~.:.~

 

thank you for reading! ♥


	6. Blissfully Precious

  
Author's notes: This is the final drabble -- it's meant to take place about 6 months or so after _Breathe_.  <3  


* * *

**blissfully precious  
seamus/dean, 200 words, rated pg13**

::  


  
  
  
The moments now are few, but blissfully precious in their magnitude.  
  
He's settled easily into desperate snogs when Hope is in the other room... into sporadic, softly perfect morning sessions that send them to work with identical, self-satisfied grins... Now that they've found each other again (or whatever some amateur writer would posit), Dean is oddly happy with maintaining the status quo.  
  
Neither is as fit as they were six years ago; Dean can barely pull his knees toward his chest, let alone perform the sexually athletic feats he'd been able to when they were young, adventurous, and just a little bit stupid.  
  
In spite of this, he finds simple joy in the lust-filled looks Seamus sends him across the table while Hope regales them with tales of the boy she so obviously fancies. She spends the evening cataloguing his trouble-making ways and falls asleep with a thoughtful smile. Seamus whispers later (when they're tangled together, warm and sated) that he'd always liked Dean's small but weighty penchant for disobeying their professors.  
  
For the first time in his life, Dean has figured out how to appreciate something while he has it, rather than in its absence.  
  
That feels _profoundly_ important.

 

::  


  
  
~thank you so much for reading! ♥


End file.
